Untitled
by Count Rabbit
Summary: So this is my attempt to write a story about everybody's favorite drunkard...I promise to write a real summary the minute I know where this is going.
1. Introduction

**1**

"Monsieur?"

_Hmmm..._

"Excusez-moi, monsieur?"

_What... No..._

"MONSIEUR GRANTAIRE!!!"

_Not so loud... God, my head..._

I sighed and capitulated. I attempted to open my eyes and recognize the person responsible for awakening against my will, yet my head was resolutely set against that move and made its disapproval known by an immediate, piercing ache in my temple.

"Monsieur Grantaire, are you awake?"

"No", I grunted, still not willing to let go of the comforting numbness of sleep.

"Monsieur, you're talking, so you're not sleeping anymore", the voice declared.

"Really?", I asked and tried once again to open my eyes, this time succeeding. The expected pain failed to appear and I identified the woman in front of me.

"Louison? What the...", I cursed, fairly confused.

"I'm sorry, but I have to ask you to leave the café. We're closing. Your friends already left hours ago."

My friends...

"Of course", I replied, "please excuse the inconvenience, Louison."

My attempt to get up was more than pitiful, and I sank back onto the chair again.

Louison looked at me frowning, and disappeared, only to return a short time later with a cup in her hand.

"There you go!"

"Coffee?" Discontented, I looked up at her.

"Yes, coffee." She replied, "I thought, it might do you good. I mean, in your present condition..."

"Oh, in my present condition? Ma chére, if I didn't know better, I would say you are worried about me."

I smiled and she blushed crimson.

"I...", she stuttered.

"Never mind", I said and my smile died.

You are the only one caring anyways, I added in my mind.

I took a sip of the coffee. Admittedly it had been a while since I last drank something that didn´t contain alcohol. But she was right, it did me good.

"This is not bad at all", I acknowledged and emptied the cup.

"Merci", she answered, visibly pleased and blushed again.

"Well, I think, I really should be going now, before you get in any trouble because of me."

Still not feeling very well, I got up from my chair and headed towards the exit.

"Oh, monsieur Grantaire?"

I turned around, looking at her enquiringly.

"I'm so sorry, I almost forgot, but one of your friends left a note for me to give you."

She pulled a piece of paper out of the pocket of her apron and handed it to me.

"For me? Who gave you this?"

"That… that tall, blonde young man…"

Enjolras…


	2. The note

**A/N: I'd like to thank the people who reviewed the first chapter. Your encouragement was greatly appreciated.  
And a big thank you to my beta, Rain of Joy, for editing.  
Happy New Year, everybody!**

I hesitated. If this was really a message from Enjolras, it would hardly be something positive. I was barely able to unfold the slip of paper because my hands had begun to tremble uncontrollably.

_Grantaire,  
__the moment of change, the moment we've all been waiting for is near.  
What we need to do now is to be on the alert and to stay focused and we mustn't be distracted, mustn't be distracted from achieving this our goal. I know you don't believe in this goal and that it means nothing to you, so I request you to not attend our meetings any longer._

For one never-ending moment, everything around me seemed to vanish. The only thing I could see was the piece of paper in my hand, and I read his lines over and over again without being able to believe what he had written. Though he didn´t bother to sign his letter, I recognized Enjolras' writing at once.

Did he know at all what he was doing by excluding me? Did he care? I suppose not.

Until now he implied that he stood above my sarcasm – he didn't even seem to hear my vicious remarks. They couldn't put him off his stride, I thought. And why would they? What was I compared to him?

I've never seen anybody believing in anything the way he did. And that rare gift of being able to believe in something with heart and soul was what attracted everybody. That was what attracted me. He was everything I was not. That was why I would have given anything for just one kind look, for just one word of acknowledgement from him.

I may not have believed in his cause, this revolution of his, but I believed in **him** as much as I possibly could. And what did he do? Threw me away like I was some kind of inconvenient burden. Which was probably all I was in his eyes...

The drunken cynic in that corner with the only thing he cared about – wine. Why couldn't he look past that? Why couldn't he see?

"Monsieur?" Like from a distance I heard Louison's voice, filled with worry. I slumped down and fell into the next best chair, still gazing wordless into space.

"Are you alright? Monsieur Grantaire?"

I couldn't respond, even if I'd wanted to.

Then I felt a sudden pain in my arm and I jumped up, startled, but at least awakened from that state of trance I'd been in.

"Ow!" I cried.

"So after all you are still alive! I must admit, for a moment I was a bit skeptical about it", she jested, grinning, but facing me, she wiped the smirk off her face immediately.

God, if I looked just half as pathetic as I felt...

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to mock you", she became silent, still studying my face. "You don't look too good. It's because of that message, isn't it? Bad news?"

"Yes, you could say so", I replied, smiling faintly.

"Is there anything I can do for you? Anything?"

"Actually, there is. Get me another bottle of wine, will you?"


	3. Thinking

**3**

Once more this night, she just stood there, darting a glance at me; the glance couldn't be excelled in contempt, nothing left of the compassion she showed just seconds before.

"No!"

"Pardon?" I asked, partly vexed, partly amused.

"You really need to ask?" she blurted out. "You really do need to ask?"

She shook her head in disbelief.

"Is that your way of solving problems? Deny their existence, get drunk and hope that after your inebriation they have vanished also? Great method!" She paused. "Do tell me, did it ever work? Were you ever feeling better, were the problems ever gone afterwards?"

I hated when somebody patronized me. I hated to be confronted with this obvious weakness of mine. First Enjolras, now she. Couldn't they just leave me alone?

"First of all, this is not your business at all. Secondly, I've never mentioned any problems, I just spoke of 'bad news' ... Christ, I don't even know why I have to justify myself. This is a café and you work here, so if I order something I expect you to get it without prior questioning", I said, rather annoyed by her behaviour.

"I only want to help you to with that..." she interjected.

"I didn't ask for any help", I sharply chimed in, "I don't need any help. Not from you, not from anybody."  
I looked at the girl, who frightfully stared back at me. All of the sudden I felt sorry for her.

Sighing, I tried to calm myself. It wasn't fair to vent my spleen on her.

"I beg your pardon. I didn't mean to bark at you like this, but you touched a sore spot here."  
I stood up. "I'll better be going now, I... I need to think."

"Apology accepted..." she hesitated. "Are you sure you don't want to..?"

"Yes!" I replied kindly, yet forcefully.

"Thank you very much, but I'd rather be alone now."

I didn't wait for an answer, I just stood up and left.

Without any coordination or sense of time, I walked the streets of Paris. I didn't even feel the cold of the night. I was completely lost in my thoughts.

'Problem', she said. No, 'problems'. Not just one, there were more of them.

A drinking problem. Until now I've never considered my consumption of alcohol a problem. Quite the opposite: Alcohol led me to believe everything was fine. It filled an emptiness inside me, which was eating me alive when I was sober. But it didn't make it go away. It didn't make it go away.


End file.
